


I Knew You

by thatdameoverthere



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: AU, F/M, Female Harry Potter, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Torture, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-10-02
Packaged: 2018-02-10 01:36:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2006040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatdameoverthere/pseuds/thatdameoverthere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's 1964 and the second Wizarding War is over, but for some the battle for freedom is only now coming to head. Now refugees trying to flee Europe one in particular is given the chance for the life they had never had, and the family they had always dreamed of. It's 1964 and Mary Campbell is born.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**October 15th 1964**

 

"are you sure you want to go  through with this? it would just take-"

 

"I know."

 

"Ginny's right, its dangerous over there!"

 

"no more dangerous than here! besides, Dean has already set up everything, right Dean?"

 

"I have been in contact with my aunt, she's a squib-"

 

"and a Hunter! so is her husband! they kill things like us. we have all heard the stories."

 

"calm down Draco, this is happening and you cant change my mind."

 

"-and she has agreed to let you live with her and her husband. the husband knows."

 

"the backstory? A sixteen year old cant just appear in a neighborhood, people will suspect something."

 

"they cant have children. Harry is a child they decided to adopt."

 

"that’s it?"

 

"that’s it."

 

8888888888888888888888888888

October 17th 1964

 

a black haired, green eyed girl stood in front large two story house with a wrap around porch, a single brown leather satchel slung over her shoulder. she hesitated before ascending the wooden steps and stopped, hand raised, before nocking on the front door. her hand lowered.

 

this was it. this was the end of her life. as soon as she stepped into the building before her, saw the husband and wife that would take her in, let her live with them, her life as she had always known it would be over. the green eyed teen knocked, the door swinging open. an elder woman, with short blond hair and dark brown eyes, pronounced cheeks and a small nose. Deanna Campbell. the woman Dean Thomas was named for, his mothers sister, and the woman that had agreed to, dare she think, adopt her. legally binding.

 

they stared for a few moments, absorbing each other. could this be it? the freedom she had always wanted? the peace? Mrs Campbell opened the door wider with a smile and beckoned her in. no words exchanged. the green eyed girl was led through the foyer hall, polished wood floors, a plush rug. two doors to her right, she couldn't see past them, nestled in by the staircase. a wall to her left. mrs Campbell moved forward without pause and into the main room. a fireplace with a brick hearth in the corner, a small tv not far from it and pushed against the wall, bookshelves littered spare space against the walls, she would have to go through them if the Campbells let her. a soft pale blue couch a reasonable distance away and a coffee table in between, a neat pile of books to one side, and a large brown arm chair. two large windows on the back wall showed the other side of the wrap around porch, a door to the porch open and revealing its screen pair.

 

the girl was led to the couch, it was as soft as it looked. Mrs Campbells husband, Samuel, sat grizzled and scowling, staring at the blank tv. the older man turned when she sat, his frown dispersing, and he seemed to take the time to study her. her scars and bruises and her war weary eyes. she did the same.

 

the woman who was to play her mother sat beside her. "what is your name dear?" she sounded like a mother.

 

the dark haired, green eyed girl looked up, and she realised in that moment that it wasn't when she saw this woman or when she stepped into the house that her life, her suffering, ended.

 

"Mary. my name is Mary"

 

and it was on that day that Mary Anne Campbell was born.

 

 


	2. Beginnings and Endings

May 4th, 1964

 

Hogwarts was in ruins. Towers crumbling, walls crashing, roofs caving. The Black Lake was still, the giant squid never once breaking the surface, hadn't for days, the edges of the lake closest to the castle seeped red from the blood soaked earth. Lazy trails of smoke twisted in the sky, colouring it grey, and ash flittered down like snow looking almost peaceful. It was anything but.

 

A group of nine stood, their backs to the castle, staring out to the field between the castle and the Forbidden Forest that had, just two days previously been turned into a battle field. Two days. A few bodies still lay where they fell. Others, death eaters, lay in piles scattered about the field like hay stacks. In the face of it all the group of students turn soldiers clung to each other, hands, arms, clothes. Not because what they saw was shocking, nor because of relief. They reached for each other because they had nothing else to reach for. Some of the group had family they could return to, others had wealth and a name in society, some had nothing and that's how they all felt. They had been born into war, had been raised as soldiers, whether they realised it or not, had been willing to die two days ago, but now they stood there and they were lost.

 

What did they do now?

 

Harriet Potter, bruised and battered and leaning on crutches, her breath ragged and scratchy and her chest aching, turned from the death field to her surviving friends, family. Neville was closest, his arm gently around her waist, holding her up in more ways than one, in loose muggle clothes like they all were, his eyes clouded as he stared out over the field as if searching once more for their stumbling and bleeding forms. Holding tightly to Neville's hand was Luna, face buried in the taller boys shoulder, scars littered her neck where Harriet could see under her turtleneck sweater. She was silent as ever, had been since they got her and Neville back.

 

Draco stood next to Ron and behind Ginny, who sat tense in her wheelchair. The thin teen was hunched forward, his starved body hidden under a large jacket, blond hair greasy and limp, leant up against Ron, one hand on the junction between Ginny's neck and shoulder. Ron stood strait, a rock for Draco and his sister, for all of them, to cling to. But Harriet could see his shoulders shaking slightly, his one good arm clenched on Draco's shoulder, trying to make himself believe that it was real, that it was over. His other arm was missing, amputated at the shoulder, sleeve pinned up, the arm that would forever hold Hermione's limp body.

 

In front of the group sat Seamus, on his knees and head bowed, much of his face and head was bandaged and the white wrappings darkened as the Irish boy wept for his fallen cousin. Dean sat next to his old classmate, huddling the weeping teen to him with a wrapped hand, only his thumb and pointer finger still there, the middle and ring fingers lost to the first joint, pinky gone entirely. On the other side of Seamus knelt Blaise, expression blank but his arm stretched over the weeping boys' shoulders, and resting on Deans.

 

They were broken. It wasn't a realization that Harriet had just had thrust upon her, she had known that the people she now looked at as family had cracks long before the battle that shattered them. She wondered if they could find all the pieces. She doubts it.

 

"Its disgusting"

 

It was Ginny who spoke, her voice full of venom and hurt and sorrow. All nine pairs of eyes shifted from the past and locked their full attention to their youngest member.

 

"All those people…celebrating? Celebrating!?" the young redheads hands tightened around the arms of her wooden wheelchair, nails leaving little crescents.

 

"Hundreds of children, children, forced to fight, or they would die! Most of th-them did!"

 

Harriet watched as her friend screamed injustice to them, to the air. Crying and sniffling, her face red, teeth clenched and bared. Ron seamlessly dropped to his sisters side and used his only hand to pull his little sisters forehead to press against his, thumb stroking her cheek. Draco stepped closer at her back, his other arm coming up to rest around her shoulders.

 

As much as Harriet wanted, she didn't move, she was drained, her thoughts, her emotions, everything. The dark haired girl lent further into her taller friend, let him hold her weight; let him lean back on her. But Harriet knew that all of her little family thought Ginny was right, thought the same as her.

 

Today was the official celebration for the end of the war. All of Diagon Alley, the Ministry, homes, shops, the entirety of Hogsmead were in the midst of a party that had started early in the morning. When their little group had tried to pass through Diagon after their escape from Saint Mungos they had been mobbed by 'grateful' and 'loyal' witches and wizards who were trying to thank them, thank Harriet, for what they did. Thank them for killing. Thank them for being murderers.

 

Because that was what they were, murderers, at least Harriet was.

 

For magical people, to kill an innocent causes ones magic to rip apart the soul, but to kill anyone will cause tares and cracks, and Harriet could feel them acutely, had felt them burning through her skin ever since she woke up from her death at the hands of Voldemort.

 

And all of those people were happy. Harriet wasn't happy. She didn't know how they did it. So many had died, children, innocents caught in Lord Voldemorts snare and forced to fight at his side, even the guilty.

 

"They weren't there, none of them know what really happened, just what the Ministry told them." Blaise's expression was still blank, but there was a glint in his eye.

 

Ginny tore away from her brother to scream at the dark skinned teen. "it shouldn't matter-!"

 

"But it does." Ginny, angry and emotional, snapped her focus to Neville, an almost snarl on her split lips.

 

"Let them celebrate their freedom from war, they don't know how long it will last" Harriet's' words were scratchy and broken, almost gasping when she had finished. "we will mourn, and they will celebrate."

 

There were a few hums of agreement but in the end the group moved close to one another and went back to staring out at the field blackened with blood. They stood and sat for what seemed like house before Seamus pulled himself from the ground, Dean quick to follow and Blaise rising almost smoothly, a wound in his side making him jolt slightly as he stood.

 

Seamus looked around at the gathered teens. "If we can mourn, then…then it's over. It's all over. Does that mean we're free?"

 

Does that mean we're free? Harriet wondered, she didn't know…

 

"I think so, I want to be." Ron, his voice cracking from screaming sorrows, hopeful.

 

"It would be…nice" Draco, wary, unsure that this was truly the end.

 

Luna took a step away from never, hand still clasped to his, eyes lighting with wonder, like a child, but the whole group took notice of the little smile that graced her face.

 

Ginny said nothing, not daring to.

 

"I've never been free before" Harriet, she spoke it softly, a whisper. They all heard it. The all knew. They had been trapped into being many things, but it seemed Harriet had been the most. A savior, a slave, a pawn, a soldier, a sacrificial lamb and a hero. She didn't want to be any of them.

 

"I think we are, or we will be, soon" they turned to Blaise. He was smiling. Small and easily missed, he looked up to the darkened sky, ash snow alighting on his cheeks and brow. He glanced down at them all, he looked calm, almost, and started to walk. "let's go home"

 

They followed. Like the thought of freedom, the thought of home sounded nice.

 

 

May 5th, 1964

 

Harriet lay on the floor in the Burrow. The rest of her little group of survivors had all returned to their households, or where they were staying. Draco had returned to one of the less used Malfoy estates in the Scottish highlands with Luna and Neville, a small cottage that was used to house the keepers of a heard of Pegasus owned by the old family. Seamus and Blaise, who had been renounced by his father for fighting alongside Harriet and no longer a part of the Zabini family, where staying with Dean and his mother, his sisters all off at their own muggle boarding school in America far away from their war.

 

Outside was dark, still too early for the sun to rise, and the rest of the house was silent. She and Ron were curled around Ginny, as if they were trying to protect her from a threat that no longer existed. Harriet knew that the other two were asleep, Ron's snores were soft having had taken a dreamless sleep potion and Ginny conked out from her pain medication. The three lay on mattresses that Harriet had asked Bill and Charlie to collect from various beds and push together for the three, while she and Ron started a small dragon hoard of blankets and pillows that they circled around themselves.

 

Harriet remembered sleeping like this in the castle during the sieges the year leading up to the final battle, and when they were hunting horcruxes, but instead of Ginny there was… was Hermione.

 

No, don't think about it Harriet, it's over now, there is nothing you can do now.

 

Harriet curled as much as her aching chest would let her into Ginny's side, taking all the comfort she could from the rare gentle contact. Her unruly, short black hair fell over her face and made her face itch, but she ignored it, unwilling to separate from something familiar for such a menial thing.

 

That was another thing, almost nothing was familiar anymore. Harriet had grown up with pain and suffering and always thinking of everyone else and that never changed when she was accepted into Hogwarts, but now the war was over and she didn't know what to do any more. She only knew how to fight, how to survive. She didn't know how to live, didn't know if she could learn how. If Hermione were here Harriet was sure she would know, her bushy haired friend knows, knew, everything. She would know what to do now.

 

In her curled position her chest went from an ache to a harsh burning that forced Harriet to roll onto her back to try and relieve the pain. Her doctor at Saint Mungos had recommended that she stay at the hospital for a while for observation on the seriousness of her condition. When the doctor, a mousy looking man in a blue medi-robe, had examined her ha had been extremely worried after finding her heart beat. Palpitations. Her heart was beating weirdly, that was what Harriet had understood through her haze of loss. The doctor had later told her that it was these palpitations that are causing Harriet such trouble with her breathing. He had said that it was likely that it was just from stress. Harriet knew better. She hadn't told anyone except Ron and Luna that she had died when she went into that forest. Harriet closed her green eyes as she tried to suck in a breath, rubbing circles over her heart as if that would settle its erratic beating. She had been prepared to die for her friends when she walked out of Hogwarts, she hadn't been prepared for the consequences of dying. She clung to the little hope that the palpitations were from the stress of the war and would go away.

 

It wasn't only her. She had let all of her friends be injured, some irreparably. Ron had lost his arm, Ginny would never walk without assistance again and Harriet didn't want to think about her empty left eye socket, Dean's wand hand was mutilated, Blaise was deaf in one ear, and Luna… harry could only hope she would be able to hear the pale blond girls voice again one day. All of this? This was all Harriet's fault. If only she had tried harder, been faster, done better, then they wouldn't have to suffer. Harriet may have killed Voldemort but she had still allowed his followers to hurt her friends. The Dursleys were right, she was useless, she could never do anything right.

 

Turning her head to the side Harriet took one more long look at her red headed friends before forcing herself up off their warm nest of pillows and blankets and bodies. The air that greeted her was cold and bit at her sore lungs and throat, but she had felt much worse, this was nothing. Her limp to the wall was slow and she could feel her blood starting to burn in her limbs, like a soft crucio in her veins, and she grabbed her crutches with bandaged hands, tucking them under her arms. A moment of relief, a sigh. It was as Harriet was stepping out of Ron's room that she wished desperately that they had decided to stay at Grimmauld Place, that they all hadn't wished so desperately for somewhere that was warm, even when it was so empty. Harriet wished the Burrow didn't have so many stairs. Her pale skin was pasty when she reached the kitchen, cold sweat sticking short black hair to her forehead and neck. Heart stumbling and lungs catching. Her wheezes filled the room as she entered but she kept moving through into the living room and happily fell onto the couch, crutches splayed beside her legs.

 

"Are you alright dear?"

 

The soft voice was unexpected and Harriet was reaching for her wand before she could realise she had left it upstairs. Her breath picked up and her eyes darted around until landing on the source. Molly Weasley. Wrapped in an over large dressing down, clutching ragged and old baby blanket. Even though Harriet could see there was no threat, years of looking over her shoulder and her friends shoulders constantly kept her panicked. In her frenzy Molly had moved to her side. An arm that had never been in the overlarge dressing gown placed it around her shoulder and before she knew it Harriet was huddled close to the older woman under the warm article. She closed her green eyes and leant into the embrace of the only woman in Harriet's life that had given her love and expected nothing in return. A hand swept through her dirty black spikes, cropped short earlier during the war, again and again. It was soothing. A rare thing for the green eyed girl.

 

They sat silent for a while, staring into the cold fireplace. Molly never paused her action, Harriet didn't stop her. She supposed it wasn't just Molly trying to comfort her. Molly Weasley was mourning. Harriet didn't know what it was, why Molly had this power over her, maybe it was some kind of strange magic, she just didn't know. Her shoulders didn't shake, Harriet made no noise, just stared as tears fell and vision blurred. The black haired girl didn't even know why she was crying. It could have been the war finally catching up to her, the deaths, the stress, any number of things that Harriet had every right to cry and scream about but never did, had been raised to believe that crying only brought more pain. Or, a tiny, weak voice somewhere in the deepest part of her mind whispered, it could be the gentle arms around, holding her as if she were as precious as glass. But it couldn't have been, because Harriet wasn't precious.

 

Harriet hid herself in the mourning mothers chest anyway and pretended that maybe she was.

 

Time sped past after that, and perhaps Harriet and Molly had fallen asleep, as neither could remember when exactly the sun rose. It was an unspoken agreement to get up and migrate into the kitchen. Molly put the dressing gown on proper, tucking the baby blanket into one of the pockets and started to make breakfast. Harriet sat at the kitchen table, helping where and when she could, but staying close to the red headed woman.

 

Charlie was the first downstairs, hair mussed and dark bags under his eyes. He didn't seem awake enough to form a simple response to his mother's 'good morning'. He sat across from her, arms limp at his sides and head thumped onto the table. His bare foot lightly touched hers underneath he table and Harriet leaned back in her chair, a tenseness in her shoulders leaving as his older magic wound around hers in reassurance. It would be that action that started a chain reaction, drawing the other inhabitants of the oddly shaped house downstairs to add their magic to the mix. It had been a little odd when Harriet had first learned of the subtle nuances of magical relationships and how they worked. When the black haired girls own flurrying magic had first been touched by another's she had promptly freaked and it had taken quite a bit of explaining from Sirius that magic wasn't just a tool for witches and wizards to utilise but also a way to connect to others and express themselves. It was a way of communicating. Harriet had often sat in silence with Ron and Hermione whilst they had been on the run and let their magic intertwine and comfort each other until all their magics flowed smoothly together.

 

Doing it now, feeling the magical presence of the people she cared about stabilised Harriet in a way that just looking at them, feeling them beside her, never would. After all, when wizards and witches could use spells or potions to change their appearance communication with magic to know that it really where your loved ones beside you was essential.

 

Draco, Luna, Neville, Blaise, Dean, and Seamus had all arrived at some point during the start of the meal. Breakfast that day was large a feast of both happiness and sorrow. A wake, to mourn the loss of friends and family and to celebrate their lives and the lives of those that were still here.

 

"People are starting to rally for the clean-up." All other conversations stopped as Bill said this, his hand clenched firmly with Fluer's.

 

A murmur erupted, no one really speaking to anyone else.

 

"Do you know when exactly?" Neville's voice was strong and determined. He wanted to help, Harriet could see it in his eyes. The tall boys words sparked a reaction from the rest of student survivors, nodding heads and hummed agreements and firm eyes. They all want this, Harriet did to.

 

"From what I heard? Two days, the seventh."

 

It was Blaise and his collected, cultured voice that gave them a collective answer. "We'll be there."

 

Molly instantly started fussing, the mood lighting as she worried over them. "Are you sure? You are all still so injured! What if you trip, or something falls on you, or-"

 

"We'll be fine mom, really, we want to help." Ron placed his single arm around his mothers shoulders, a gentle, humoured smile on his face.

 

A happy agreement came from the rest of them before the conversation shifted back into light humour, but there was still a lingering tenseness in the air. Harriet wondered if it would always be there.


	3. The General and The Strategist

May 6th

The day before the big clean-up of the wizarding world was a day of rest in the Weasley household. The rooms at the bottom of the house, the kitchen and living room, were filled with quiet conversations and hushed laughter. Sometimes they talked of trivial things, things that held no relevance or meaning. Sometimes they talked about the better times, happy memories from years past. But all in all, Harriet thought, it was a good day. She let her muscles relax, stopped herself from looking over her shoulder, she even found time to brush her unruly short hair into submission. Now she found herself curled together with Fleur and Luna, the older woman having wrapped her arms around the two younger two, the French heiress tangling her legs with theirs.

Harriet, leant against Fleur, watched with half lidded eyes as Ron played a game of chess with Ginny, listening as Fleur recounted a tale of her sisters many misadventures in the Delacour Manor. It was foreign to Harriet, this calm simplicity, she was not used to being able to relax. She could probably count on one hand the amount of times she had really relaxed, really let the worries of the world just roll off of her. Harriet sighed softly, turning to smile at Luna when the blond tugged on her fingers. Her silent friend stared at her with a blank face for a moment, her eyes piercing to her very core, before smiling brightly and twining their fingers together. Harriet knew what Luna meant, she wanted her to stop thinking and stop worrying. But she wasn't worrying, she was relaxed! Unsure how to answer her odd friend, Harriet just smiled and tightened her grip on Luna's hand.

Harriet was relaxed, because she knew that soon she would be thrown back to the sharks. The only difference from the sharks she had just crawled away from was that the ones she would see tomorrow didn't smell her blood; they smelt the blood of others.

 

May 7th

The day of the clean-up, for Harriet and her little family, was very...intense. Harriet would not say for sure whether this first day was specifically good or bad because she really didn't know.

The first thing Harriet did was go straight to Hogwarts. With Ron at her side they slowly made their way through the damaged halls, weaving around fallen flagstone and taking long detours to avoid fragile stone that threatened to fall on their heads or from beneath their feet, the trek only made longer by Harriet's crutches and slow gait. They were on their way to visit the newly instated headmistress. They were not visiting because there was something important to discuss (there was), and they weren't visiting to talk about what had happened (so many terrible things), they were visiting because the headmistress was in charge of the clean-up, they wanted to know where they were needed. Their path, instead of leading them up to where the headmasters’ office had once been, it led them down, deep into the dungeons. They were the safest part of the castle both during the war, and now.

Harriet felt Ron's fingers tighten at the end of her sleeve, unable to grab her hand, and she wondered what he was thinking about. She chanced a glance at his face. Hard. She couldn't decide whether he was thinking or upset, maybe both. Focusing back on their path she felt the reality of this place hit her. Once upon a time, when war was but a fanciful story, she had dreaded these very dungeons, held such a disdain for them and their inhabitants. She had never even thought that a few years later the dungeons of the great castle Hogwarts would become her last refuge of safety, that its snakes would become the keepers of an entire school.

There were spell burns on the walls, a few blown out doors and signs of struggle but apart from that bowels of the castle were the least effected by the war waged above it.

They had reached the headmistresses 'office' now, an old room once used by the house elves, and entered without a knock. Minerva McGonagall was by no means 'old' by wizarding standards, barely 80 years old when a witch or wizard can easily reach 150 to 200 years old when in good health. The elder woman had a few more grey hairs that Harriet thought she remembered, and her bun was loose and harried. The new headmistresses face, gaunt and weary with stress, seemed to lighten as the two entered. Harriet wondered if she was getting enough rest.

"Miss Potter, Mr Weasley," a heavy sigh and loose smile, "Come in. sit. I am very glad to see you both are well"

Ron helped her to one of the mismatched chairs before he sat in his own. She noticed that he let her have the comfier of the two. The three of them sat for a moment, inspecting each other, and Harriet saw Professor McGonagall pull herself up as if about to ask-

"We're here to help with the everything." said Ron. Bless him, Harriet smiled

There was an awkward silence for a moment, as the two soldiers stared at their once professor. Shoulders sagging. McGonagall blinked.

"Alright." McGonagall shuffled a few papers on her desk until one large browned paper rested on the top. Both Harriet and Ron could see bright red marks slashed and circled on it and as they leaned closer they found it to be a map of the grounds. Harriet, with great effort, heaved her chair closer, curious of the marked maps.

Half of the map was dedicated to the grounds and surrounding land, a large circle placed between Hogwarts and the Shrieking Shack. Harriet could see a marking for the Womping Willow and Hagrid's hut encompassed in that area. For a moment her vision flashed, screams pieced her senses and she watched as a fifth year boy scrambled for cover under the old willow, its branches and vines snapping out at the creatures and death eaters around it, setting it alight. Harriet changed her path, ignoring her bleeding arm and bruised chest, and began carving a path through her enemies. Heart shattering as each on fell. She moved as fast as she could. Jumping over still warm bodies. Her eyes, wide and frantic, met those of the younger boy. She tried to smile at him opened her mouth to tell him I'm here it's ok, we'll be ok but suddenly he froze. Harriet choked on her words, screaming. Red bloomed as his stomach split open from a yellow curse and the boy (merlin, she didn’t even know his name), his smile seemed stuck as blood spilled over his stretched lips, spilling out like his insides. Harriet dove under lashing vines. Hands cupping his paling face. Pushing on his stomach and please-please-no-don’t-go-it's-alright-please-please-don't-die-no-no-nononono blood spilled over her fingers. A hand touched her neck lightly and she looked back up at the map, eyes drifting to trace a few of the red 'x's marked within the circle. She didn't know what they were for but Harriet supposed that she would find out eventually. If anyone noticed Harriet's eyes turn a little darker or a shine a little more they didn't say.

The headmistress directed their attention to the other half of the map, showing the inside of the castle where there were many more red marks. "Well if you two are here to help then I could use you in some of the upper levels. We need to salvage what we can. I have a few teams up there already finding and cataloguing all the rooms, foundations and items that can be repaired, replaced or are undamaged so that we can start rebuilding the castle." the older woman looked at them over the rim of her glasses and Harriet knew exactly what she was doing. She reached out and touched Ron’s' arm and the redhead glanced at her briefly before nodding.

"Where exactly?" Harriet's voice was rasping but strong.

"The third floor. There's a small team there already. They should help you get started."

Ron was quick to stand after that was said, and just as quick to help her out of her own seat and onto her crutches. With a final glance at their old transfigurations professor and a soft goodbye Harriet was led out of the room by a tense Ron. They walked through the dungeons in silence, and Harriet didn’t quite know how to ask Ron about his silence

The walk was long, back to twisting through the debris slowly as they made their way to the grand staircase. Harriet wondered the stairs were moving again, she remembered them having stopped all their shifting during the battle and even before that, during the lockdown, the stairs had stopped their tricks and missing steps. She hoped there weren't any missing steps, she thought as she glanced down at her crutches. As they reached the staircases on was just settling into place before them and waiting patiently as they slowly made their way up. Odd for the stairs but the two didn’t argue. Luckily Harriet had Ron with her otherwise the dark haired girl would have given up after the first five steps. Merlin was she going to regret this tomorrow. Ron easily took one of her crutches and offered his arm up instead, taking her weight and partially carrying up the stairs, though Harriet would never admit it. She smirked slightly at Ron, tried to pull his focus away from whatever was putting him in such a bad mood, she could never imagine him doing this when they first met.

"What a gentleman."

Ron glanced at her from the corner of his eye but didn’t turn his head. She was alright with that, she wasn't really looking at him either. "What? You wanted me to leave the poor damsel in distress to struggle alone?" his voice wasn't like Harriet remembered from their banter in the past, but he was talking, and that was a win for her.

"Not at all, just wondering where you learnt such chivalry." Harriet's smirk dropped to a half smile as she saw Ron's lips twitch slightly. She turned her attention to where they were walking; they only had one more flight of stairs. She glanced at the walls, large gaps where portraits had been blown off and many of the ones that were left were empty.

"Unlike some might think I…" Harriet hummed, squeezing his a little tighter and waited for him to finish. He took a heavy breath. Harriet held hers. "I...d-don’t have the...emotional range of a t-teaspoon." 

Harriet almost froze for a moment. Face blank. Then she smiled, shaky but hopeful. She chuckled softly, before it morphed into deep hearted laugh, tears gathering in her eyes. She felt Ron laughing beside her, wet sounding. She thought he even sniffle a little. The laughter died down quickly enough but left the two brighter than before.

"Hmm, I guess you’re right." this time she did look up at her friend(brother) to see him smiling shakily down at her. Without even speaking Harriet knew Ron would be ok.

By that time they had reached the third floor and began to wander, trying to find signs of the group they were sent to help. As they got closer to the charms classroom they could hear people, no voices they recognised, calling out things to each other. So with a look at each other Ron and Harriet made their way there. 

Looking into the classroom Harriet saw five people. Three were moving through the room slowly, sifting through debris and putting things into different piles calling out the names of the things they found. These three were adults, two men and a woman, all wearing wizarding robes. The other two were students Harriet recognised. Hannah Abbot and Ernie Macmillan, two Hufflepuffs that Harriet knew were friends with Susan Bones. Both the teens were wearing fairly loose muggle clothes like Harriet and her friends all wore, and if she had to guess Harriet would say there were some bandages underneath. Hannah had a large bruise surrounding her left eye and a bandage over her nose while Ernie had a small cut on his forehead.

It was the woman in the wizarding robes that noticed them first. She stopped what she was doing and nearly dropped the pile of scorched books she had in her hands. The others in the room were quick to notice them after that, the three adults staring at her and Ron(mostly her, why her) with wide eyes and open mouths. Harriet recognised that look from her first year at Hogwarts. She didn't like it.

"Would have thought you lot were still in Saint Mungos." Ernie said as he pushed himself up from the desk he and his fellow Hufflepuff had commandeered for their task.

Harriet was first to step towards their friends (brother and sister in arms), ignoring the three adults now huddling together. The two Hufflepuffs had been a part of the DA when it was first started, Harriet remembered. And when Luna, Neville, and Ginny had started it again whilst Harriet Ron and Hermio- when they had been off hunting horcruxes the two had re-joined and helped the younger students learn how to fight (and wasn't that a sobering thought).

“We were there for a little while, a few hours, but we wanted to go home.” Rons voice brooked no argument or questions and Harriet felt that it was more for the adults off to the side of them, now whispering and glancing their way.

The two blonds nodded, understanding what they meant, and Harriet felt Hannah brush her magic carefully against her own and responded in kind. Their magic was quick separate but now all four had small smiles, having silently communicated their wellbeing to each other. They were alive, they would be fine.

Ernie smiled, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah so, you guys got sent up here to help?” a nod. “Well alight, McGonagall sent us up here too. From what I heard she won’t send any students out into the field.”

“Really?” Harriet asked as she and Ron glanced at each other. The group shifted back to the desk Hannah and Ernie were at, Hannah shifting a few rolls of parchment filled with lists of different items out of the way, and looked to be packing away he quill and ink. Harriet wondered why.

“Yeah, probably thinks she’s doing us a favour.” Hannah said, a chilling humour edged her voice.

“Pff. Pretty sure we’re past that point.”

There was a moment of silence between the group, even the adults, momentarily forgotten, were still. Hannah froze for a moment, hand tightening around an inkwell. The soldiers looked at each, grim acceptance for a moment before it was broken by dark, masking laughter. And for a moment it felt like they were back in the dungeons, their year group huddled up and whispering dark humour to each other in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“What are you doing Hannah?” asked Ron, shifting next to the brown eyed blond and having rolls of parchment shoved into his arms. Harriet chuckled at his confused face.

“This room is almost done, those three can handle the rest while we move onto the next room.” Hannah said briefly, a quick glance at their General and Strategist before putting the next armful of inkpots into her blond friends’ arms and swooping over to stand by Harriet.

“Well,” said Ernie, loud enough to catch to attention of the three adults, “we’re moving to the next room-“

“I’ve left the list for this room on the desk for you. We’ll be in the library starting to catalogue.” And then Hannah turned and begun to tug Harriet from the room. The boys followed. As they entered the hallway Ernie muttered a soft warning about where they stepped as Hannah led the charge (slow and limping) to the library.

As they left the hall the charms classroom was on Harriet was started by Hannah’s exclamation of exasperation and annoyance. Ernie sighed behind her.

“Every single one!” Hannah hunched slightly, a glare flitting through her eyes.

“Wh-“ “Oh, come off it Hannah! We get it ok?” Harriet shut her mouth with a click as Ernie cut her off.

“Come off-NO I won’t come off it! Every single one of blast ended skrewts can just-

“Just what? Just calm down, they just don’t und-“

“Understand?! Of course not! They don’t understand that we are not children!” Hannah seethed for a moment and Harriet tilted forward slightly to catch her eye. Hannah’s eyes apologised.

“What’s up?” ah Ron, simple, sweet Ron. Hannah sighed heavily but didn’t say anything, just walked a little faster than Harriet could keep up with. She turned her green eyes to Ernie, who grimaced at Hannah’s retreating back.

Harriet kept her voice low and questioning. “Ernie?”

The shaggy blond sagged and shrugged a shoulder. “You know… she’s just…upset, what with Susan, and her dad,” a pause and Ernie dragged his gaze over them, blowing a lock of hair out of his eyes.

Ron turned to look at Hannah, her tense body ahead of them. “What about her dad?”

“From what she told me? He treat her like a kid, and Hannah hates it. I understand, I think we all do. We haven’t been children for a while, but the adults, the rest of wizarding Britain, don’t seem to understand that. At least, that’s what Hannah sees. It didn’t help, what McGonagall did, keeping us away from the fields. And the three back in charms? Pretty much ordered us to sit down, shut up, and write down exactly what they said. But, your know, nicer. I had half a mind to tell them that we only take orders from y- well to tell them off anyway. Hannah was furious though.” Harriet could see Ernie's hand twitch, wanting to rub at his neck but the inkwells stopped him. Harriet tried to look back at Hannah, but the irate badger had already turned into the library.

Harriet knew this was a point of contention between the two Hufflepuffs, and she had learned that arguments between her soldiers (they weren’t at war) could be detrimental, so she was quick to put an end to this line of conversation.

With a glance at the two taller males behind her silence reigned for her. “We’ll talk about this later. I think right now we need to focus on the task at hand.” The three turned into the library and Harriet immediately moved towards one of the smaller desks that Susan had moved into a clear space and the black haired girl could only guess that the blond had transfigured chairs for them.

Harriet fell heavily into one of the chairs with a sigh of relief. Really, the ravenette thought, I get tired far too easily. She shot a glare at Ron who laughed at her huff of annoyance, turning her glare to Hannah when the girl smirked too. The boys unloaded their arms onto the desk and Harriet looked at the parchment and quills for a moment before pulling a fresh roll to herself and setting up an inkwell. When she heard shuffling she glanced up at the other three, still standing about.

“Well?”

Hannah, Ron and Ernie looked at each other.

Harriet made a shooing motion towards the books. “What are you waiting for? I just said we should focus on the task at hand and that’s what we are going to do! Now go! I’ll scribe.” The General laughed as three shuffled off quickly.

Hannah turned slightly. “Are you sure you know what to do?”

Harriet pinned the girl with a deadpan look, she grew up in a cupboard, not under a rock. “I know how to write a list. I'm exhausted, not stupid.”

Hannah went back to shuffling.

And so the four soldiers sorted books for a while, calling out ‘salvage’, ‘repair’ or ‘lost’ as they sorted through the mess of the library. The giant room was in total disarray, giant shelves knocked into each other, fire and spell damage all over, books, paper and ash scattered through fallen stone, there was even a large hole in the far wall where Death Eaters had reigned siege on their main well of knowledge. As Harriet wrote down book tittle after book title in one of three columns she also kept an eye on her friends, making sure they were safe under the precarious bookshelves on next the that whole in the floor near Mrs Pince’s desk. It saddened Harriet slightly that the list for ‘lost’ was the longest, the amount of history that had been destroyed.

At that thought Harriet looked over the her red head friend and frowned. Maybe…. It was as Harriet looked through the library, where they had so many memories, that Harriet realised what was making Ron so tense. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. Harriet knew this place must be hitting her friend the worst, but Ron kept going strong. Because of Her, because he knew that this is what She would have wanted. And the silence probably wasn’t helping. Merlin knows Ron doesn’t like being left to his thoughts.

“Hey Hannah?” Harriet called up, quickly jotting down another name Ernie had called out.

“Yeah?” Harriet couldn’t see Hannah, the blond was somewhere further in the library.

“How’s Susan?” Ernie shot her a look, Harriet gave him her own. She knew what she was doing.

Hannah crawled out of a whole in the fallen shelves, dragging a pile of books with her. The slightly older blond didn’t look at her for a moment, and she was too far away for Harriet to see her face but then Hannah turned to Harriet and odd expression on her face.

“She-she hasn’t woken up yet.” Harriet waited patiently and Ron and Ernie seemed to quieten for a moment to let the upset girl speak. Harriet glanced at Ron, saw him looking at her with such an open look, knew what she was doing, before turning all of his focus onto Hannah.

“The healers say she’s going to make a full recovery but then… why hasn’t she-.” Hannah shuffled a few of the books before her and called out a tittle that the green eyed girl absently jotted down. “I just mean that, I saw her! She didn’t look too hurt, and she wasn’t bleeding all that much and I know that with magic that doesn’t really mean anything at all, but I hoped… I go and visit her, I was there yesterday even though my dad wanted me at the house.” Hannah put down a book with a bit too much force and read out another tittle and labelled the book for ‘repair’.

“He hates it you know, my dad I mean. Even before everything, he hated how much time we spent together. And now?” Hannah chuckled coldly, “now he tells me to give up! To move on. But I can’t I can’t because I-“

“You love her.”

Hannah looked over at Ron. He didn’t look at her.

“Yeah.”

“When are you going to visit her next? Would you mind if some of us came to see her some time?” Harriet looked back at her list, wrote another name called out by Ron. She didn’t need to look at Hannah, the blonds magic had latched onto the other threes for stability the moment she mentioned her father.

Hannah laughed, lighter this time. “Next? Please, I see her every day, or I’ll try to anyway, it’s only been a few days anyway. And I think – I think Susan would like it if you visit sometime, you especially Ron, I think.”

After that they went back to work sorting and listing books, but Harriet saw Ron smile slightly, a real, true smile. The green eyed girl shared a glance with Ernie, the blond looking at her with a look similar to the ones the adults at shot at her, but coming from a friend? Harriet didn’t mind it. She didn’t quite understand it though. Still, Harriet thought, she was just glad Ron wasn’t so moody anymore.


End file.
